


Involuntary Reaction

by mahoni



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, Other, Smut, Wordcount: 100-1.000, teen!Bob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahoni/pseuds/mahoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob has one of <i>those</i> dreams while spending the night at his grandma's house. Awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Involuntary Reaction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [desfinado](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=desfinado).



Bob is not thinking about Mrs. Dubenet who the guys in his fifth period English class say has a BJ mouth.

He is _not_ thinking about her BJ mouth.

_Not_, he thinks at his pillow, and wills himself not to hump the mattress.

_Think about something else_, he thinks, _Grandma, because I'm in her fucking house, Jesus, grandma's doilies, grandma's evil cat, grandma's...Xenia Onatopp NO, shit --_

This would have been a lot easier if his grandma wasn't such a huge James Bond fan, because then they wouldn't have gone to "Goldeneye" the night before and he wouldn't have fucking _Famke Janssen_ and her hot mouth and killer thighs popping into his head at the worst possible moment. He groaned and buried his face harder into the pillow and curled his toes.

His dick was going to explode. All over his grandma's guestroom bed.

_Shitting shitting fuck_.

And then he was thinking about the dream, which was the reason for this to begin with, and that was just not good.

Dream about a thing that had actually happened, which was worse.

He fisted his hands in the bed sheet and did not think about --

_\-- the new kid from fucking Utah of all goddamned places in the bathroom when Bob walked in, ducking class to sneak a smoke, the new kid was already in there, not even in a stall, just standing there leaning against the sink with his dick out jacking off. _

There were rumors about the kid, not the nice kind, the kind that made Bob shut his mouth and try not to think certain things, which made him pissy, which usually ended with him getting in a fight with some asshole about something that had nothing to do with getting mad and scared when people called some other kid a fag.

When Bob walked in and stopped dead by the door, the kid looked up and saw him, and didn't stop. His mouth was open enough that Bob caught a flash of metal on his tongue; his eyes were warm -- turned on, but nice, and also looking at Bob and still_ turned on, which -- _

Bob couldn't help the way his own eyes moved down again, and again, and he noticed the kid's hand sped up when he saw Bob looking. The kid had tattoos on his stomach, almost down to his pubes, it was hard not to look, at the tats and at the swollen, dark head of his cock.

And then Bob

didn't do it on purpose but

licked his lips. Just a flicker of his tongue. Involuntary.

The kid saw it and closed his eyes and huffed out a sharp whine and came all over his hand and into the sink --

\-- Bob's hips jerked, and just that little friction of his dick against the mattress and _that kid came thinking about my mouth on his cock_ and fuuuuuuuuuck.

*

When Bob offered to do the laundry and change the sheets on all the beds in the morning, his grandma smiled and kissed him on the cheek and said, "You are such a good boy."

***


End file.
